Read Online The Secrets of Casanova by Greg Michaels - Free Book Online Page B

between her thighs. Her moans, in turn, fostered even stronger action from him.
    Rocking, pushing, aching, she continued her quest, her body racing toward the summit at the urging of his pliant tongue.
    Oh, now! Now! Her body heaved. Storms of release rolled from deep within. Flash of color. Divine light, oh, precious light. Lust, love, domination, surrender—all mingled together now. She was beyond herself—beyond it.
    She fell back on the pillow, closed her eyes, and sighed. Countless waves of pleasure played within her. There was a measure to the world again. All seemed robust, yet also whole and serene. She drifted in tranquility.
    When she opened her eyes, she found him gazing at her.
    “I lie here,” he said, “to admire the fullness of your lips, your high and even cheeks, the blonde hair that sweeps your neck. The hue of your eyes, it seems, might put an emerald to shame.”
    With her long, supple fingers, she stroked Jacques’ face and hugged him close.
    “And here, this first time—so gratifying that your body fits perfectly with mine,” he added in a whisper. Then, showing a grin, he spoke louder. “Of course, I need to remind myself that my brother is married to a strong, sturdy dancer, and that it might be wise to protect myself from her vigor.”
    “A former dancer, Monsieur Casanova.” Dominique shoved Jacques to his pillow and returned his wide grin. “And to think that just weeks ago you were lodging at an inn! What kind of hostess does that make me?”
    “Well, you’ve been quite courteous this morning.”
    The lovers chuckled.
    Dominique sat up and leaned back against the headboard.
    “I’ll be forthright,” she said. Shifting slightly, she pulled Jacques’ hand to her stomach and held it. “I realize that in no way have I the right to inquire—”
    “But you have rights,” Jacques interrupted, “the same as I. The rights that polite society grants to all its members. So speak to me. But I caution you. Should this be a finely tuned inquiry, I may choose to conceal certain sentiments.”
    He stole a quick kiss. Dominique’s stomach eased under his touch.
    “I want to know. How is it women grant you their favors? Do you have methods to—” She covered her mouth. “What are your means to their charms?”
    “Means? A subtle question, indeed, Madame Tigress,” he laughed.
    Dominique pulled the bed sheet tight to her shoulders. The morning sun’s rays glistened through the half-empty wine bottle on the table next to the bed. She smiled when Jacques gently laid his head on her leg, and a slightly questioning expression crossed his face.
    “If you’re wondering, Francesco had a taste for his models,” she said. “But after all, he’s an artist, we live in Paris, and he may take a lover. And so may I.” Rearranging the sheet so that the breeze from the open window would not chill Jacque’s naked body, she stroked his thick hair from his forehead to the nape of his neck. “Now, mon ami, are you willing to answer my question?”
    “Yes,” Jacques replied, but then proceeded to lie in silence.
    “By century’s end?”
    Both laughed.
    “All right, all right. What is my method? How is it I …”
    He picked up the empty glass standing on the floor next to the bed and passed it to Dominique, who filled and returned it. Reclining, he steadied the drink on his chest.
    “I once seduced a wonderful girl by playing my violin.”
    She slid under the sheet beside him. “Tell me more.”
    “Well, I discovered as a young man that I had not beauty but something far more valuable, though I can’t define it. Perhaps an unbridled confidence. Certainly a clip of courage. And always the benefit of good fortune. Even while recognizing that love is a grand game, I took seriously those attributes which nature bestowed upon me.” He ran his hand down Dominique’s silky arm. “I’ve always believed that seduction is one of the higher arts, but higher still, in fact, is the art of making